


Stiles: 0, Cosmo: 10 (Or, 5 Things Stiles Will do for a Blowjob)

by 1lostone



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Awkward Sex, Blowjobs, Fluff, Humor, M/M, a possibly unhealthy discussion of semen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-30
Updated: 2013-05-30
Packaged: 2017-12-13 09:50:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/822915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1lostone/pseuds/1lostone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>Orig prompt: </b> Werewolves have super senses, which should include super TASTE, right? Derek doesn't want to go down on Stiles because he hates the taste of come, so Stiles puts on his Research Goggles & digs into like, Cosmo to try and figure out how to make his come taste better so that the poor guy can finally get a bj.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stiles: 0, Cosmo: 10 (Or, 5 Things Stiles Will do for a Blowjob)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thatworldinverted](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatworldinverted/gifts).



> Quick note: This fic is set not-too-far in the future where everyone is (Canonically) legal. :D

**Title:** Stiles: 0, Cosmo: 10 (Or, 5 Things Stiles Will do for a Blowjob)

 **Author:** 1lostone

 **Pairing:** Sterek

 **Word Count:** 5000+

 **Rating:** Hard R-ish

 **Warnings:** awkward sex, a possibly unhealthy amount of discussion on semen, some angst snuck in there (hahah SHOCKING!), my attempts at humor.

 **A/N:**  Thanks to [thatworldinverted](http://thatworldinverted.tumblr.com) on tumblr for prompting what is probably the funniest prompt I’ve ever read. This is probably a zillion times more cracky than they intended, but I couldn’t help myself.  Thanks to [silvarbelle](http://silvarbelle.tumblr.com/) for idea on the stiles and scott part. heh. No actual quotes taken from any magazines used in this story.  As always, thanks to my cheerleading crew- jlm121, silvarbelle, diva, and marlee813 for making me not suck. Special thanks to [clockworkravyn ](http://clockworkravyn.tumblr.com/)who was brave enough to offer to beta!  

**Orig prompt:** _Werewolves have super senses, which should include super TASTE, right? Derek doesn't want to go down on Stiles because he hates the taste of come, so Stiles puts on his Research Goggles & digs into like, Cosmo to try and figure out how to make his come taste better so that the poor guy can finally get a bj.  _

  

* * *

**-5-**

**_“Sometimes you and your lover won’t be perfectly compatible. You just have to work past it and hope the rest of the sex makes up for that one, tiny thing.” -- David  23_ **

 

“You uh.... really?”

Derek grunted, glaring. Given the position he currently held between Stiles’ legs, with his chin resting on Stiles’ stomach, he really shouldn't be glaring like that.  Stiles’ cock apparently  thought that too as it went from hard and wet and ready to go to... not quite so hard, wet and.. well. Damn.

Both of them looked at Stiles’ dick with matching raised eyebrows.

“You don’t want to.. uh. that’s fine. It’s not a big deal.” Stiles forced a smile, trying not to feel like there was something wrong with him.  “There’s a ton of things that ... we can... it’s not a big deal.”

“Obviously it is.” Derek sat up, looking frustrated. He ran his hand through his hair and huffed out a breath that any other time Stiles would think was rather disgustingly adorable. “Look- it’s just that...”

“No, man. I mean, sure I’m kind of sorry that I. uh. That I gross you out or whatever, and yeah it would have been cool if you’d told me that before we got to the almost lips around my dick part of the evening, but mmm _hhhmmmmph_ ”

It wasn’t the first time Derek had shut Stiles up by kissing him. It was, in fact, practically a habit. (As in- it may or may not have been one of the reasons Stiles felt no worries about talking so much.)  Derek kissed him like he didn’t quite know how to stop. Derek climbed on top of Stiles so that his jeans pressed into Stiles’ stomach, his hands cradling Stiles head and holding him so that he could lick into his mouth, kissing him so hard and so well Stiles forgot what his own taste tasted like.  

Derek pulled away slowly, like he couldn’t quite help himself, and Stiles chased his mouth before his brain caught on to the fact that it was time to stop kissing now. Okay... now. No. Now. Damn it.

“It’s not you, idiot. It’s the taste.” Derek scrunched up his nose. He shrugged. ‘It’s just not my thing is all.”

He did something to Stiles’ neck that had him humping up into Derek’s heat. Derek didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he seemed to actively be on board with this, if the way he rocked against Stiles’ dick was any indication. Stiles wasn’t even sure when Derek had opened his jeans, but his cock was hot and thick as it rubbed against Stiles’ own, which had pretty much okayed the proceedings about the second Derek bit at his mouth.

Stiles wasn’t exactly the most experienced guy out there, but the way their hard cocks slid together, with the precome and sweat making it just on this side of slick made his whole body jerk with sensation. Derek just moved, slowly rocking and licking at Stiles’ mouth, until Derek’s lips were shiny and a little puffy with their enthusiasm.

Derek’s hair was a little sweaty, sticking up from Stiles’ grasping hands and oh. Oh, that was it. That was perfect.... Derek swallowed Stiles’ moan greedily as Stiles came and shook apart under him, then buried his head in Stiles’ shoulder as he propped himself up on one elbow, jacking himself off so that he came with a low growl, his come spurting onto Stiles’ already filthy stomach.

They were quiet for a moment. It took Stiles a few minutes for his heartbeat to relax.

“Um, so. Would you... uh, if I made it so you liked the taste, would you be willing to try again?”

Derek snorted, collapsing onto Stiles with a low laugh.

Stiles frowned for a moment, poking Derek rather hard in the shoulder. “You’re supposed to be a sourwolf. Sourwolves don’t _laugh_. Asshole.”

Derek pulled back, turning and reaching for the sheet to clean them both off, which was kind of disgusting, but given that Stiles was trying to talk Derek into swallowing his come, he didn’t really think he was in a position to throw stones.

* * *

**-4-**  

**_“Your girl not like the taste of your manly essence? I’ve found that giving up caffeine and other stimulants goes a long way in convincing my girl that the taste is just another part of me. Besides, if she doesn’t there’s always gonna be someone else willing to give it a try!” - Peter, 34_ **

“Stiles?”

“Mmf.”

“Stii-iiiles....”

“G’way.” Stiles flailed a little at the annoying sound, trying to bury his face in his pillow. His pillow was nice. It smelled like Derek.  He was just so... fucking... _tired_.  He felt something soft brush the top of his ear, stroking down over the curve of cartilage and around to the lobe. His hand hit something hard and there was a muffled ‘ _unhmf’_ from across the way.

Stiles was confused for a second. The mattress dipped and Stiles could also smell Derek here, musky and sharp and mmm. Derek. He flopped over, burying his face in Derek’s lap, snuggling into the warmth of his body.

“Stiles.”  There was a snort that sounded a whole lot like someone was biting their lip so that they wouldn’t bust out laughing. “You really need to go to bed earlier...”

A soft snore was Derek’s only answer.

* * *

**-3-**

**“Using a true organic approach will drive your man wild in bed. We are natural beings. Sex is a natural process, and to truly find your zen orgasmic center you must resist the temptation of eating extra fatty acids unwillingly sacrificed by our four-footed brethren. Organic vegetables are the way to go for a true, meaningful experience with your soulmate.” -  Faun, 20**

“So, Scott. You go down on Allison, right?”

Scott spit out his Gatorade, then horked a few times, pounding at his chest as though he’d also swallowed the cap. _And_ the bottle.

“What the... _gack_! Fuck, man? I’m not going to answer that!” Scott looked around the crowded food court, horrified. Which was stupid. Because Stiles totally respected women and would never ask that in front of Allison. Or Lydia. Or, god forbid, Erica.  Because he liked his balls where they were, thanks.

“Well, like. You told me that I could ask you anything, right? About. Uh. Werewolf stuff.”

Scott glared at him. He looked like a pissed off puppy as he wiped his chin with the back of his hand. “Yeah, but that doesn’t mean you can be...”

Stiles waved his hand around. “Sorry. I.. okay that seriously sounded better in my head. No offense man.” He stuck his fork into his pea pod rather forcefully, then stuck it in his mouth, chewing morosely.  He tried not to look at Scott’s burger, but it was hard not to. It was so ... thick. And .. juicy. And... meaty. No. Nope. No. He could do this. It was for ...science. And blowjobs.

“Let’s say... hypothetically, a werewolf was really turned off by the taste of .. er.. body fluids.”

Scott looked really, utterly horrified for a full minute before Stiles’ brain caught up to what he had just said. “No! Jesus. I mean co-” he lowered his voice to a whispering hiss. “ _Come_. Okay? I was just wondering if that was a Derek thing or a ..”

Scott set down his cheeseburger. “Please stop.” He took a deep breath, looking ready to bolt. “Um, you do know that Allison is a .. girl, right?”

Stiles ate his carrots as aggressively as possible, rolling his eyes.

Scott still looked mildly revolted as he plowed on. “Sooo. Girl parts. Not speaking of anyone in particular, but yeah. It doesn’t taste... bad. No. er. Sperm.” Scott managed to only turn about three different shades of red as he whispered this little gem of information.

“Oh my god, okay, I know _that_.” Stiles took a drink of water, trying not to blush as badly as he wanted to. He thought it was one of the most unfair things in a whole, huge, unfair universe that Scott of all people was like the Sex Yoda or something. It was about ten times more entertaining to ask him questions, rather than just Googling it for his reactions alone. He was pretty sure Scott hadn’t cottoned onto the fact that he and Derek were.. sort of... uh. sleeping together. When Scott figured that out, Stiles wanted there to be a fucking camera involved. For reasons.

“So.. you’ve never tasted it?”

Scott opened his mouth. Shut it. Picked up his hamburger and ate a really huge bite, chewing very significantly in Stiles’ direction before he cleared his throat to answer.  “Are we still speaking hypothetically?”

Stiles’ mouth dropped open.

“Dude, what’s up with the rabbit food? Here, you can have some of this if you want some...” Scott pushed half of his hamburger towards Stiles.  They’d been sharing food since kindergarten. “And. Yes. Hypothetically.”

“I can’t.” Stiles really, really wanted that burger. He was by choice and practice a carnivore. This was a lot like torture. Then what Scott had said hit him and it was his turn to choke on air.

“You! You’ve ... what? I mean, oh my god, was it Issac? I’ve seen your bromance, man, and I seriously never thought Allison would be into tha--”

“No! Not Isaac!” Scott was back to looking horrified. “Mine. My own. _Jesus_!” He slammed down his burger hard enough that a huge glob of mayonnaise spurted from under the bun onto the cheap plastic food court tray.

The two of them very carefully didn’t meet each other’s eyes for several minutes. Then Scott started to snicker. Then Stiles.  It was terrible. They couldn’t actually look at each other without giggling. It took a good ten minutes for the two of them to calm down enough to be able to actually acknowledge the other’s existence.

“So. Uh. Let me get this .. straight.” Scott’s lips twitched at ‘straight’. “You wanted to know if not liking the taste of... “ he coughed. “Uh.”

“Spooge? Jizz? Spend? Come?” Stiles lowered his voice an octave. “ .... Manly Fluids?” He managed to offer suggestions with a straight face.

Scott looked like he was trying not to have an aneurysm.  “Yes. That. Was a werewolf thing? As opposed to a... Derek thing?”

Stiles made a face at the little pile of broccoli.

Scott did that thing where all the dots seemed to connect at once. “Oh. And you’re trying to make...” he gestured to all the vegetables. He paused a second. Tilted his head. “Does that really work?”

“Well, the no caffeine  didn’t really change the taste. I’ve been uh. Cataloging. For Science!” And blowjobs. “According to my sources, there are a few other things that I can try so that it... uh. Tastes sweeter.”

Scott, in a show of absolute awesomeness, reached over and nibbled on one of Stiles’ pea pods instead of the burger he obviously wanted.  “What ... sources?”

Stiles sighed. “Cosmo.”

* * *

**-2 -**

**_“The key to making sure your partner likes, and I mean REALLY likes to suck your cock is to stop with all the chemical sounding shit. If you can’t pronounce it, don’t ingest it. Alternatively, peppermints are quite a nice surprise. You can’t go wrong with peppermints.” - Chris, 31_ **

_CrunchCRUNCHcrunch_

“Stiles.”

“Hmm?” Stiles sucked on the little bits of peppermint, staring down at the Bestiary, editing a page. As far as he was concerned, it was kind of like an old-fashioned wikipedia. The Hunters tended to describe how to kill off every supernatural creepy crawly with a kind of pants-shittingly, therapy-inducing loving detail.

Stiles had discovered, kind of by accident, that there were just as many ways to subdue the creatures, and often even help them before it turned into something that involved a trip to the hospital for those of Derek’s little band of merry men who couldn’t heal themselves.  Namely, Stiles.  

And okay, he wasn’t sure if he wanted the general public to know that Redcaps were really big teddy bears if you rubbed their ears, but you just never knew here in Beacon Hills. Weirder shit had happened.  Absently, Stiles reached for another peppermint and started crunching.

He was completely unprepared for Derek to snatch the bag of peppermints out of his hand and toss them over on the couch. “Dude! What the fuck?”

“What’s with the peppermints? You don’t have bad breath.” Derek moved before Stiles could blink, sort of looming over Stiles in his desk chair. “What are you trying to hide?”

“What?!”

“If you’ve been with someone else, Stiles...” The growl was low, and seriously pissed, and probably shouldn’t have made everything in Stiles’ body tighten with want.

“ _What?_!”

Derek spun away from him, visibly trying not to wolf out. Stiles noticed in the one tiny part of his mind that wasn’t blindsided by hurt that Derek would _ever_ think that he wasn’t everything that Stiles could ever want that Derek’s fingernails had cut through the palms of his hands when he clenched his fists, the wounds healing over almost before the blood dripped onto the carpet.

Stiles stood on shaky legs, still floored by Derek’s accusation. “You.. uh. I’m not sure exactly how you got from peppermints to me wanting someone else, but you’re a fucking idiot.” Stiles winced. He probably could have phrased that better. Derek’s lips twitched despite himself.

Stiles reached out and pulled Derek’s hand to him, kissing very softly at the palm. “I’m just... trying something is all.” He kissed at Derek’s knuckles, then leaned over to kiss his lips. Derek made a small sound when Stiles licked at his lower lip. Their kiss was slow, sweet... and really minty.

Stiles blinked a little goofily at Derek before he frowned.

“What made you think that?”

Derek was a little slow to focus too. Stiles would be lying if he said he wasn’t smug as hell about that.  “Uh.” He broke away from Stiles- when had their bodies gotten so entwined, anyway?- and walked a few steps over to where Stiles had been working, his face very clearly set in  ‘Do _not_ attempt conversation with the werewolf’ look #23.

“No! Seriously, what the hell?” Stiles grabbed the bestiary and (he did not _flounce_ ) but walked calmly and maturely to his bedroom. And slammed the door. Maturely.

Stiles had just about worked himself into a halfway decent tizzy when there was an extremely soft, almost _guilty_ sounding knock on the door.

“Stiles?”

“What?”

“Look...” There was a huff of frustration. Stiles rolled his eyes. Screw that. Derek could just use his goddamn words like a normal person.  “Can I open the door?”

“You’re the all-powerful, all-knowing werewolf. I’m sure you can figure out those pesky doorknobs.”

Stiles had pretty much already forgiven Derek by the time he opened the door, but seeing him slink in like a dog with its tail between its legs pretty much cinched it.  “I’m ... sorry. That was a really shitty thing to say.”

Stiles set the book aside and shifted on the bed, bringing his legs up and crossing them so that he could rest his elbows on his knees, pressing his chin into his hands as he stared up at Derek. “So why did you say it?” Just to be a dick, he crunched the peppermint to dust, swallowing the pieces.  

“You--” Derek started, then stopped abruptly, flinging his hand out towards Stiles’ bedside table. “Is that Cosmo?”

“Maybe. Don’t change the subject.”  Stiles may or may not have turned a few different shades of red.

“I. uh.” Derek refocused. “Well, we.. hooked up almost three weeks ago, and you haven’t even been around since then. That kiss was...”

“ _I_ haven’t been around?  Me. Been around _when_ , Derek? While you were away for a week taking care of pack business? Or when you were dealing with the other Alpha pack?” Stiles was surprised to find that he was almost pissed. “Or. I know! During my finals? That’s a pretty good time to...”hook up”.”  He trailed off at the crushed look on Derek’s face. Shit.  Stiles huffed out an annoyed breath, rubbing  his hand over his face. “So okay. We go a few days without seeing each other and your brain seems to go directly to I’m _cheating_ on you?”

There was an awkward silence why they both stared at the other.

Stiles popped another peppermint into his mouth.

Derek actually scuffed the toe of his boot on the floor.

Stiles threw his hands up, jumped up off the bed and kissed his idiot boyfriend.

* * *

**-1-**

**_“Mm. Having to choose between full, penetrative sex and a just a blowjob is damn near impossible. There’s no such thing as ‘just’ a blowjob.”  -Craig 24_ **

Lydia gave him a strange look. “Do I want to know?”

Stiles shook his head more emphatically than any head had ever been shaken in the history of head shakes.

Lydia’s look turned a trifle worried. “Do I need to burn them?”

“No! Of course not. I was careful not to..er. Drip.”

“To drip.”  She tapped one red nail against the brightly colored, glossy magazine, nodded once, and dumped the whole stack of magazines into the recycle bin with a crash.  “So did it work out?”

“Did what work out?” Stiles tried a bright, chipper smile.

“Your little experiment.”

Stiles tried not to look offended. “It’s not _little_. It’s for science!” And blowjobs.

Lydia held up a hand. “Okay, so.” She cocked her head to the left, looking down her nose at Stiles in that smug, superior, I-kicked-your-ass-by-.25-of-a-GPA-for-Valedictorian smirk. “You stopped eating meat. You OD’d on vegetables. You started skipping processed sugar. Peppermints. Now? You’re eating mango and pineapple like it’s going out of style.”

“So?” Stiles squeaked.

“So?”

Stiles jumped at the sound of Derek’s voice. He whirled, knowing that his face was three shades of red.  Stiles couldn’t help but stare as Derek looked from Lydia’s no doubt smug face, to the recycled Cosmos, to the piece of mango in Stiles’ hand.

There was a beat of silence as Stiles awkwardly sucked the juice that had trickled down his wrist.

“Yes, well. I’m going to just go and ... find something to do. That isn’t here. Caio!”

Neither Stiles nor Derek really noticed Lydia’s hasty retreat.

Derek’s mouth slowly traced the path of the mango juice, ending with a slow, sucking bite on Stiles’ wrist.

Stiles was pretty sure the sound he made would have put a dying dolphin to shame, but in his defense: Derek’s mouth.  

“ _This_ is why you’ve been so secretive?” Derek’s voice was a low, rumbling growl. “You wanted to. I can’t believe y-. Fuck. _Stiles_.”

Derek turned rather abruptly, hustling back to his car. Not that Stiles was complaining. In fact, Stiles was practically leading the charge. In the car meant not outside. Not outside meant going to Stiles’ apartment. Stilles’ apartment meant sex. Hopefully. Lots and Lots of really sweaty sex.

Derek seemed to be thinking along the same lines, if the way he drove was any indication. Granted, Stiles _did_ sort of have an in with the Beacon Hills Police Force, but this was pushing it. Derek’s Camaro wasn’t exactly subtle.

Stiles made sure that he ate the last bit of mango as obnoxiously as possible, slurping the juices and doing things to the poor thing with his tongue that nature never intended. Derek might have an issue with the taste of come, but Stiles was pretty fucking keen on tasting some that wasn’t his own.

Okay, so the fact he totally taste-tested his own come was probably one of those take-with-you-to-your-grave sort of things, but whatever.  

Stiles was only peripherally aware of Derek screeching to a halt outside his apartment. It seemed that between one blink and the next Stiles was pushed up against his own wall, Derek practically feeding at his mouth.  Stiles wanted to ask if mangoes were better than peppermints, but his tongue was pretty busy.  Derek licked at his teeth, at his palate, slippery slick over his gums. Stiles hated to pull away to breathe, but Derek seemed to roll with it, shifting so that his knee was between Stiles’ legs, pushing up into where his dick was trapped behind his underwear.

“Fuck... Derek...”

Stiles could feel Derek smile against his jawline, felt the scrape of his stubble as Derek worked his way down the column of Stiles’ neck to his collarbone. Derek kept rubbing just slightly at his dick, and Stiles couldn’t seem to catch his breath. Every time he inhaled he could smell his own sweat and Derek’s, mingled together.... which probably should have been gross but it wasn’t. Stiles wanted to lick him, to taste.

Derek seemed stymied by Stiles’ t-shirt, unwilling to stop kissing him for the few seconds it would take to take it off.  Admittedly, Stiles was no help, biting at Derek’s jawbone, scraping his tongue over the curve of Derek’s chin.

There was a muttered curse, and then the ripping sound of rending fabric.

Stiles pulled away, shocked, and knocked his head a good one on his door. He opened his mouth to bitch Derek out, then shrugged and pulled Derek back in for more kissing. Derek’s mouth moved over his, taking control of the kiss, his hands tangled in Stiles’ hair. Stiles copied the movement, pulling a little at Derek’s hair, noting as he always did how much Derek would just melt against him at the small pain, like he couldn’t help himself. Stiles found it way hotter than he probably should have, but feeling Derek press against him like he couldn’t be close enough to Stiles made him feel a little awed, like part of him still couldn’t believe that it was him that Derek wanted.

When Derek went to his knees, Stiles was fairly certain he choked on his own tongue.

“Wuh-wait.”  It was a gasp, shocked and breathless sounding.

Derek looked up from where he had been just about to kiss Stiles’ navel, and frowned, the lust-stupid expression fading from his face. “Stiles?” His voice was at least a half an octave lower than his normal register. It reminded Stiles of right before he’d wolf out, and it probably shouldn’t have made his cock harden even further in his jeans.The fact that it did was something that Stiles would possibly revisit later. Derek nuzzled against the slight trail of hair from Stiles’ belly button over his abdomen and Stiles couldn’t help neither the flutter of nerves nor the way he bit his lip when he shivered.

“What’s the matter?”

“Uh.” Stiles’ mind blanked for a second at the picture of Derek on his knees, looking up at him with the slightly worried look on his face. His hair was utterly fucked, sticking out in every single direction at once and Stiles was hit by a feeling of such dopey contentment that he was almost afraid to open his mouth. “It’s just. I kind of. Erm.”

Derek moved back slightly, his hands running up and down Stiles’ hips and stomach, not letting go completely.  

“You’re not doing this just because I want you to, are you?”

“Of course I am.” Derek said calmly, leaning forward to brush his lips against Stiles’ hipbone. Stiles had a brief moment of something- panic, nerves... he wasn’t sure before Derek spoke again. “But I’m also doing this because I want my mouth on you. I want to know if you taste as good as you smell. If the feel of you in my mouth is anything like what I imagined.”

Stiles was pretty sure that was what an aneurysm felt like. Of course, during an aneurysm, Stiles hoped his dick probably wouldn’t leak through his jeans (how fucking awkward for the first responders- _Jesus_ ), but it wasn’t like he was an expert.

“Plus, it’s kind of hilarious that you went through all that trouble just to get my mouth on you.”

“But! You!  You said!”

Derek smirked. “Well, you didn’t let me finish that night. I was working up to something a little more romantic than ‘if you don’t let me blow you right now I might fucking die’.”

“More. Romantic?”

Derek did the nuzzling thing again and Stiles’ knees kind of jumped ship on the whole holding him up idea.  “Shh. Don’t tell anyone. The other werewolves might laugh at me.”

“Oh, fuck you, man.”

Derek flicked at his navel with very tip of his tongue, tracing it slowly enough that the air cooling his saliva was enough of a contrast in the cool room to make Stiles shiver. “Hm. Maybe later. Busy right now.”

Stiles moaned as Derek did something else that involved sucking and the scrape of his teeth, then choked again when he realized what Derek had actually said. The sound of his belt being unbuckled sounded really loud in his living room, but the growl of his zipper being unzipped was somehow even louder. Stiles’ stomach muscles jerked when Derek undid his button, then jerked again when Derek pushed down his jeans and underwear.  Seeing his dick from this angle was kind of weird, but seeing the look on Derek’s face as he wrapped his fingers around the base sent Stiles’ head knocking back against his door again.

At this rate, he wasn’t 100% sure that he wasn’t having some weird concussive fantasy.

His cock was so hard that it stood out from his body, even without Derek’s grip to help steady it. Stiles had to shut his eyes at the way Derek’s grin turned positively evil, watching as a small bead of precome slicked the tip. When Derek licked at it, Stiles had to bring his wrist up to his mouth to muffle the sound he made.

He’d always heard people say that their knees went weak, but experiencing it was something else entirely. Derek seemed to have a sixth sense for those sort of things, because he pushed Stiles’ hips back against the door. He held him there as he slowly, so slowly that Stiles had seconds in between each brush of Derek’s lips to wonder what his mouth was going to do to him next.

“I don’t. I don’t know what to do with my h-h-holy fucking _god_.” Stiles bit his lip, staring down with awe at where Derek’s mouth stretched around him.

Derek, the bastard, actually snorted.

Which felt really... odd. To say the least.

“You... _hnnngh_. You don’t even know how many times I pictured this,” Stiles mumbled, shutting his eyes before he came much, much too fast.

Derek pulled off of him with a lewd pop. Stiles felt Derek kiss his hip, the top of his navel, his chest. Derek stood and pulled him over to the bed. Stiles tripped once, forgetting that he was wearing his jeans around his ankles, then there was the _extremely_ unsexy attempt to kick off his shoes, his socks, his jeans and his underwear without dislodging Derek from his body, (Derek, that fucker, was nice enough not to laugh _too_ obviously) and soon Stiles found himself on his back, staring down at Derek, sprawled on the foot of his bed.

Watching Derek watch his cock was kind of overwhelming. There was something a little  screwed up about Derek still being fully clothed while Stiles was completely naked, but Derek was focused, and Stiles sure as fuck appreciated where his attention was directed. Stiles propped himself up on his elbows to watch. Derek licked his lips, and Stiles groaned as he bent back down, swallowing most of Stiles’ dick in one painfully slowly slide of mouth and tongue. Derek worked himself down towards the root inch by careful inch. Stiles just watched, mangling his lip with his teeth, unable to help himself from staring.

When Derek swallowed, the back of his throat massaging the head of Stiles’ cock, Stiles collapsed against the bed, unable to hold himself up any more. As much as he wanted to see, it was beyond amazing to just feel Derek’s mouth as he worked him over.  

From far away, Stiles heard Derek’s zipper and his sharp groan of relief, and just the idea, the thought of Derek jerking his own dick while he sucked down Stiles’ was enough to send him careening towards coming. Stiles curled up, his stomach muscles straining as he watched Derek’s mouth on him.  Dimly, Stiles was aware that he shouted something, of Derek’s growl as Stiles yanked on his hair, of the feel of Derek’s fingers wrapped tightly around Stiles’ other wrist like he needed that extra bit of grounding, before he froze; coming so hard that he was kind of surprised that he didn’t black out. He refused to close his eyes, unable to look away from the sight of himself coming in white pulses against Derek’s lips, in his mouth, on his tongue.

Stiles could feel Derek swallowing, and had the lazy, half-thought that maybe he should do something to help get Derek off, but before he could make his muscles respond enough to move, Derek was licking his lips and pressing his forehead against Stiles’ thigh. Stiles saw Derek’s other hand moving as he worked himself over, and shivered when Derek bit lightly at Stiles thigh when he came. Stiles jerked in shock at the sharp sting, grunting when his cock gave a feeble twitch.

For a moment the only sound in the room was the sound of the air conditioning kicking on, punctuated by the both of them trying to remember how to breathe.

Derek moved first, pushing back on his heels to pull off his t-shirt. Stiles made a shocked “huu _aa_ ah!” sound when Derek calmly licked Stiles’ dick clean, the slightly rough surface of his tongue searching out the few drips of come that Derek’s mouth hadn’t been able to catch. There was a sound of fabric and the jingle of change, and Derek crawled up besides Stiles on the bed, kicking at the covers until they were tangled together under them.

Stiles loved this part. He was perfectly content to just lie there on top of Derek, listening to the thud of their heartbeats. He lightly brushed his lips over Derek’s fourth rib, over the little freckle he had on his sternum, stretching so that he could kiss Derek once more before he scrunched a tiny bit closer. There was a bit of a trick to tangling their legs and arms together so that as much of Stiles was pressed up to as much as Derek as possible without either of them kicking the other or taking an accidental elbow to the nuts, but it was the most comfortable and safe position he’d ever slept in.

Derek’s heartbeat slowed down a little, a rhythmic thud _thud_ thud _thud_ that quickly convinced Stiles that dozing off was probably going to happen sooner rather than later.

“Stiles.”

Stiles opened one eye.  This was new. Derek was much more of a sleep now, question post-sex nap sort of guy. “Hmm?”

“One thing that’s bugging me about your whole  experiment. Which, by the way, was a total success.”

“Was it?” Stiles beamed, smiling against Derek’s skin. “What did it taste like?”

“How did you know what trick was going to work the best?”

“Hmm?” Stiles was glad Derek couldn’t see his face. He knew that he was turning about fifty shades of red. “Oh. I uh.. well there was a certain amount of.” Stiles mentally winced. “Tasting.”

“You taste tested your own come?” There was a pause. “You _taste tested_. Your own _come_.” He could feel Derek start to laugh, until Stiles was jiggling in place with the movement of the werewolf’s chest.

Stiles pressed his red face into Derek’s warm skin. He felt Derek’s fingers on the back of his head and allowed himself to be tilted up for another kiss. He broke it off, worried for a second. Werewolf senses though. What if what tasted okay to him didn’t taste okay to Derek? It wasn’t like he could ask Scott.  Nervously he licked his bottom lip. “So, uh. was it okay? What did it  ... uh. I mean...”

This was why Stiles prefered the drop-into-sex-coma method, post-orgasm. He sounded like a fucking idiot after he came.

“Idiot.” Derek nipped at Stiles’ lip, kissing him quickly. “ I’m sorry you went through all that trouble, and for what it’s worth I’m pretty sure you scarred Scott for life so good job there, but.  You taste like... Stiles. _Mine_.  What’s not to love about that?”

 

 

 

 

THE END!

  
  
  
(ps- FIVE DAYS 'TIL SEASON THREEEEeeeeeeEEEEEEEEAkd;lkas;ldkal;sdka;lskda;skda;saajkbna.mc. guh.)  
  
  


 As always, thanks for commenting and the concrit, either here [tumblr](http://1lostone.tumblr.com/), or [twitter](https://twitter.com/1geekgirl)!

 


End file.
